AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Gabby added, “A plaintiff’s personal injury lawyer could ask for more, but we know there’s a legal issue and we want to settle and fast.”
Chuck shook his head. “I’m not getting any younger, and I got bills on account of the cancer.”
“Cancer?” I repeated, my heart sinking.
“Yeah, I got skin cancer, melanoma, and my doc says it’s on account of those tests. I had chemo, and I don’t know if it’s going to do any good or not.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I felt sickened for him.
“Thanks.” Chuck straightened. “When the doc told me, I said to myself, I have to do something about this. So I went to your sister. We found six other guys in Philly and Jersey in the skin-patch and other poison ivy tests. They got melanoma, too. They moved away after they got out.”
Gabby turned to him. “Did you bring your new medical bills?”
“Yes, here.” Chuck slid a wrinkled manila envelope across the table. “You think we’ll be able to get them to pay up?”
“I’m hoping so, but we do have one major legal problem, the statute of limitations. The testing took place in the sixties and seventies, and the time for filing a lawsuit passed long ago.”
I interjected, “That’s a technicality, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but technicalities matter in the law.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Gabby perked up. “Bottom line, there is some precedent that helps us. A group of Holmesburg inmates brought suit decades ago, but it was thrown out on the statute of limitations. The judge said that those plaintiffs couldn’t prove that there was a reason they couldn’thave brought the lawsuit sooner.” Her tone turned professorial. “That leaves an opening for our litigation. Our plaintiffscanmake such a showing. Chuck and other plaintiffs weren’t in the state after their release. That’s our lawsuit, in a nutshell.”
Chuck turned to me. “I been in the Dominican Republic with my daughter and her husband. I only got back last year.”
Gabby nodded. “All I have to do is get to a jury, and I know I’ll get a verdict. When the facts are this outrageous, they’ll find a way to give punitive damages. It’s a different world now. At least I hope it is.”
Please God. “How can I help, Gab?”
“I need you to check on our other plaintiffs, update them, and see if we have any new bills or info before we file. I’ve spoken with all but a handful.”
“Okay.” Just then, my phone rang. I slid it from my back pocket and glanced at the screen.John. “Excuse me,” I said, rising. “Okay to take this? It’s John.”
“Sure.”
I raised the phone to my ear, leaving the room. “Yes?”
“Lemaire’s dead. I just saw on TV. They found him shot in the head in his car. They didn’t say if it’s murder or suicide. The cops are at Dutton Run Park right now.”
Jesus.“On it.”
Chapter Twelve
My windshield wipers beat rhythmically, and I could see cops in raincoats directing traffic past Dutton Run Park. Lemaire was dead, and my mind raced with possibilities. Something, or someone, had happened to the accountant since last night, after John had left him at the quarry. If Lemaire had been murdered, then I assumed there was a conspiracy in the embezzlement scheme.
I craned my neck to see ahead. Smoky flares and sawhorses blocked the entrance to the park, which had equestrian trails and a soccer field. A makeshift screen had been set up in the parking lot and blocked the view from the road. Calcium-white klieg lights shone behind the screen, next to a black Chester County Coroner van and gray-and-blue West Chester Police cruisers, their red-and-white light bars flashing in the rain.
Traffic moved forward, and I stopped when I reached the first cop and slid down my passenger side window. “Officer, what happened?”
“Keep moving,” he answered, waving an orange flashlight. I obeyed, then spotted another parking lot ahead on the opposite side of the street. It was filled with TV news vans, their white microwave towers spiking into the rain.
I reached the second parking lot and pulled in among the media, which seemed to be leaving. Techs packed generators and collected black electrical cables. Cameramen disassembled makeshift canopies and folded up klieg lights on tall metal stalks. Shiny SUVs bearing station logos reversed with drivers on phones, their faces obscured by condensation on the windows.
I cut the ignition, got out of the car, and hurried to a shiny white SUV with a station logo, flagging it down as it pulled out of the space. I dug my office ID out of my pocket and flashed it when the window lowered.
“Hey, I’m a freelancer, can you help me out?” I asked the driver, blinking against the rain. “Do they know if it’s murder or suicide?”
